


Breathless

by c0smicqueer



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, M/M, Malcolm Reed is Trans, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, Outdoor Sex, PWP, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn Without Plot, SMUTTY SMUT, Smut, Smutty, Trans Malcolm Reed - Freeform, Trans! Malcolm Reed, Wholesome, Wow, wholesome gay content, wholesome smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25771189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c0smicqueer/pseuds/c0smicqueer
Summary: This was right. It had always been right. From the first moment they ever brushed shoulders in the turbolift or at a station on the bridge, ever grabbed onto each other for support. Always holding the other one, stable, safe. From even the times based in fear and in survival. But this was what it was truly supposed to be. This is all they had ever wanted.
Relationships: Malcolm Reed & Charles "Trip" Tucker III, Malcolm Reed/Charles "Trip" Tucker III
Comments: 9
Kudos: 30





	Breathless

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Star Trek or its characters. I am merely a dreamer. It costs $0 to imagine gay sex, so here it is. Thanks, don't sue I'm just gay and tired.

The forest was dense and the trees were as tall as the Redwoods. There was a thick brush between the trees - cool in the shade of the canopy, and pleasantly warm in the sunlight. The earth was red like clay, scented like mud and something like pine. Sparse grass and shrubbery grew randomly, and blue, alien wildflowers dotted the tree line. There was a vast range of mountains with some peaks as tall as Mount Everest. There were other, smaller ones, only a day’s hike to a sharp cliff face and just as breathtaking. It was summer, and the small planet was perfect. There were bright blue skies and only one sun, a large, white moon. It was deeply reminiscent of Earth, of home. Tranquil, the rustle of leaves and small animals, the almost bird-like chirping of flying creatures, and a chorus of buzzing insects soothed the crew.

Preliminary scans had detected no sentient life, only creatures of nature that existed purely in beauty and evolution. No civilizations, no possibility of first contact, no danger - only a grand, forested planet to get happily lost in. It was pastoral, ideal for an ambling exploration, a calm excursion, a weekend of camping. In the most moderate area of the Northwestern continent of this newly discovered M-Class planet they dubbed Idyll, they found a clearing big enough to land two shuttle pods. The bridge crew sans a Vulcan, and Cutler and Phlox from Medical trekked down, excited to be rid of the vast expanse of space for just a few days. 

The crew set up camp, two to a tent. Phlox and Mayweather, Sato and Cutler, the Captain and Porthos, and finally Reed and Tucker. It was customary, as best friends, that the two chief officers shared a tent. They already spent so much time together on duty and had worked out most of their disagreements many moons ago. They were harmless now, steadfast in their friendship, comfortable with each other. The jaunty chief officers pitched their tent far away from the others, having been admonished for laughing loudly into the night or squabbling over philosophy in shore leaves past. 

It was a small two person tent, Starfleet blue, with mesh windows, a mesh top for stargazing, and a rain fly just in case. They fussed about the tent, finally getting it set up to their liking. Malcolm hung an electric lantern from a built-in strap so that they could see in the evenings. Trip laid out the bedrolls directly next to each other, to maximize space, and haphazardly dropped the sleeping bags and pillows on top. Malcolm sat their duffle bags in a corner, and laid a couple of books on top. Each man had a canteen, and Trip left a bag of snacks out for the evenings, food to accompany the jovial gossip before bedding down next to his best friend each night. 

The group spent the first day foraging and exploring, taking photos, collecting firewood, and marveling at the calm beauty of the planet. They were wistful, longing for the comforts of home and finding something so close in this new, small place. It was like heaven, a miracle to find such a pleasant respite. After a day of brisk walking, hiking, fishing and gathering edible plants, the crew was happily exhausted. They built a fire and cooked their catch, munched on their berries and nuts, and had lively conversation, forgetting all of their woes for a few hours as the sun set over the mountains behind them. 

They repeated their leisurely exploration and hiking the next day, and in the evening before bed sat around the campfire once more gossiping and telling stories. They had climbed to the top of a near mountain, awed at the beauty of this faraway world. Phlox and Hoshi catalogued many forms of wildlife and enjoyed each other’s company. The rest tagged along, following the inquisitive ones’ lead. Trip and Macolm stayed especially close to one another, a constant stream of ribbing and banter exchanged between them. After they returned from their long trek in the mountains that evening and broke their fast, each crew member slept soundly, bellies full, bodies relaxed if a little sore from exertion, and minds clear. Soft snoring escaped more than one tent, and a calm fell over them all. The morning came, warm and pleasant. 

On the third day, everyone woke with dawn and puttered about, drinking instant coffee and eating a meager breakfast of protein packs and foraged berries. Everyone except Trip and Malcolm. Archer jaunted over to their tent and peered in through a half open window. Both men were fast asleep, a wondrous one, their faces angelic and sweet in their complete surrender to the safety of each other’s embrace. They were both in their underwear, sleepily stripped to their one article of clothing in the warmth of this planet. Lured into its comforts, like a baking fireside night. It appeared they had discarded their shirts and sleeping bags sometime in the darkness of night. Archer could see that their skin was moist with the sweat of sleep and the humid air, a sheen of perspiration glistening on their brows and necks. Archer smiled and crept away silently, holding in a laugh, and called to the rest of the crew to take one last hike before the trip came to an end. 

The sun had risen hours before, and dawn came and went. Now it was above, shining bright into the clearing. Trip and Malcolm rested, reset aching bodies and souls, and let the intensity of space, of command, of war, of being so far away from home, from the comfort of solid land and family and life in San Francisco bleed away. They slumbered contentedly in the luxury of fresh, breathable air, a blue sky above, the warm, white light from the star in this system. It felt like home, like Florida in the Spring or San Francisco in the Summer. The musk of the earth, the scent of dew on the grass below and around their tent, the moderate temperature, and the lilting breeze filled the tent. It lulled them, mending their internal clocks. 

Both of the men were flushed, cheeks rosy with sleep and the warmth of the sun beating down on their tent. The rays heated the humid air entering through the mesh just under the rain fly, through the mesh windows they left half zipped to let in the breeze the night before. The warmth of their bodies against each other was saccharine, like nectar. They held tight to each other, almost possessive. Unbound by consciousness or fear. Here, in the tent together, there were no ranks. No resentments. No expectations. Just the calm surrender to being. 

Malcolm lay face down on Trip’s chest, wrapped around his body. His muscled left leg was draped over Trip’s, his calf nuzzled against the other man’s thigh. His left foot nested under Trip’s calf, covered in thick blonde leg hair. Each of Malcolm's toes on his left foot pressed surely into Trip’s flesh. His stomach and chest were half on Trip’s, half on his side. His right arm hung lazily over Trip’s left shoulder, his fingertips tangled in sandy hair. Dark hair brushed against Trip’s chest, Malcolm’s face nuzzled into a thick patch of blonde chest hair, his best friend’s chin resting on top of his crown. Malcolm’s forehead and cheek rubbed softly against Trip’s sun kissed skin. His left arm tucked just under Trip’s right side, merging into the blond man’s torso. His grip was firm, as if he never wanted to let go, even in the unconsciousness of sleep.

This was what heaven must have felt like. Comfortable, warm, serene. The brush of skin against his face, the even rise and fall of breaths beneath him, the sound of a heart beat that didn’t belong to him, the fulfillment of a dream he had many many nights before this. Malcolm shifted in his sleep. He grabbed at the firm body beneath him, steadying himself. His eyes opened slowly and he felt his lashes pass over supple skin. It was warm and he nuzzled into it, mumbling, then let his eyes close once more and drifted back into the land of dreams.

The hot sunlight peeking through the rainfly and pressure on his chest pulled Trip out of his slumber. His eyes fluttered open and he felt the weight of Malcolm’s body pressed against him, moulded into him. Warm, soft skin. Malcolm’s breath, deep and even, passed over Trip’s chest, cool on its way into his nose and warm on his exhale. His friend’s fingers were wrapped around the back of his neck, brushing against his hairline. Malcolm unconsciously thumbed his neck, a tender repetitive touch. The endless sensation roused him into wakefulness. Trip realized his hands were also clutching Malcolm, that his arms were wrapped protectively around the smaller man. 

He could feel Malcom’s firm muscles under the heated skin. There was a forest of hair where his hand brushed the very top of his best friend’s round, firm buttocks. He inched his fingers in further and spread them out, searching. The smaller man’s hips rolled, his ass arching into the touch. A pleasant sigh escaped Malcolm’s throat. Trip felt it reverberate in his chest. The dark haired main rubbed his cheek against his pectoral, his face brushing up against Trip’s nipple. He could feel it get hard and sensitive, gooseflesh appearing up his arms, his neck. Blood rushed to his crotch, pooling expectantly. 

Malcolm sighed and squeezed Trip tighter. The blond closed his eyes and willed himself back to sleep, not wanting the moment to end. A dream, a traitorously tender dream. It must be, one he had so many times before, to wake up to this man in his arms, dense and fleshy. His hands squeezed Malcolm reflexively, feeling the other man’s body pulled close against his own. He could not fall back asleep, preoccupied with the pleasant sensations coursing through him, with the man he sought after for so long finally in his grasp.

The light breeze made its way through the meshed windows in the tent, trailing over their bodies, a welcome reprieve from the growing humidity. A gentle rain, a sun shower, fell softly. Sparse raindrops pattered on the rainfly while the air heated up from the sun’s rays. The sound of nature fluttered around them, the leaves of the trees rustling a small distance away, a chirping of birdlike creatures, a buzzing of native insects. Malcolm’s eyes opened slowly. His vision was tinged with a close fleshy pink and orange hue. In the bleariness he could see the distant darkness of the tent’s plasticine fabric, Starfleet blue with dark lines where it was stitched together. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and his breathing picked up some with his growing lucidity and wakefulness. 

In his right ear he heard a second drumbeat. He felt a soft furriness on his cheek, a slight dampness of sweat. He noted the familiar smell of Trip’s earthy woodsyness. A slight hint of human body odor, the natural kind. Not sharp, not dull - simply present. It was the scent of skin, perspiration. He resisted the urge to lean his head down into the smell and taste it. He licked his lips instead and closed his eyes, trying to figure out if he was really awake. He felt the soft rise and fall of Trip’s breaths underneath his face and matched them. He could stay there forever, suspended in the sensations. 

Malcolm’s eyes blinked back open and he realized he was awake and it wasn’t a dream. His right hand twitched, feeling the soft fine hair between his fingers. His fingertips moved up and down tracing patterns on his best friend’s scalp. There was a soft, delighted sigh and he felt the breathing below him quicken ever so slightly. The grasp on his lower back, no, his ass tightened. A whisper. “Malcolm?” 

He bit his lower lip. He really wasn’t dreaming. His eyes snapped shut. He really truly was wrapped around the Chief Engineer, his best friend, the Commander. The man he had once hated. That he had once disrespected so thoroughly. The man he had slowly come to love every single part of. The fingers between his shoulder blades rubbed small, smooth circles. He felt his skin react, warming, heat radiating out from the touch, goose flesh forming. Trip leaned his head down, connecting his cheek with Malcolm's hair, nuzzling the man’s head. 

“Mal, are you awake?” 

Malcolm sighed, a throaty noise escaping him, vibrating in his throat. He gripped Trip, hoping he wouldn’t be thrown off the man he had pined over for so long. “Mmmyes,” he slurred. Malcolm didn’t move, frozen half by fear and half by the desire for this moment never to end. 

“I didn’t know you were a cuddler.” Trip chuckled sleepily. Malcolm could feel the smile on Trip’s face break out on his head and a small shudder traveled down his spine. He pulled his left hand from under Trip’s side and turned it over, palm down on the bedroll and started to lift himself off of Trip’s chest. The hands and arms wrapped around him didn’t budge, holding him to Trip’s beautiful, glorious body. The inch of distance he had put between his chest and Trip’s immediately disappeared, their bodies glued and molded and wrapped back together. Together, morphed into one. 

Malcolm sighed, moaned unwittingly into Trip’s chest, feeling a blush rise into his cheeks and neck. He moved his left hand from the bedroll and placed it palm down on Trip’s right pec, fingers fanned open. Trip’s nipple was between Malcolm’s forefinger and middle finger. He brushed the tips of his fingers over the nipple, feeling it get hard. Trip’s chest muscles tightened and then relaxed. His felt Trip’s body yield to his touch, tender, gentle, vulnerable. Trip sighed this time, a small groan, the sound coming out of his mouth from deep within his chest. Wordless, they were lavish in their repose. So gentle and so loving. 

This was right. It had always been right. From the first moment they ever brushed shoulders in the turbolift or at a station on the bridge, ever grabbed onto each other for support. Always holding the other one, stable. From the times based in fear and in survival. But this, this was what it was truly supposed to be. Closeness. Heaven. Pleasure. Tender. Loving. Healing. Compassionate. This is all they had ever wanted. 

Malcolm kept his left hand on Trip’s chest, still. His right hand ran fingertips up and down Trip’s neck, slowly making their way further down to his shoulder until it was palm down just above Trip's collar bone. Trip’s left hand wandered further into Malcolm’s underwear, cupping the bottom of his buttocks where they met his thick, muscular thigh. He pulled Malcolm’s hips closer, feeling the heat of his crotch wrapped around his own thigh radiate into him. Malcolm let out a soft groan and rolled his hips into the man instinctively. He could feel Trip’s cock tremble, brushing against his left hip. He pulled his knee up to brush against Trip’s balls through his soft, loose boxers. Trip bit his lip and glanced down at the gorgeous sight of the man on top of his body. They stayed there for what felt like forever, feeling each other, melting into each other, sweat beading on their skin as the air got thicker and thicker from the sun. 

They lay there breathing and feeling each other, tender. Desire welled in their stomachs, morning arousal growing. A long-time desire coming forward. Malcolm raised his head slowly as not to bump the taller man’s chin. Trip leaned his head back so Malcolm could move and then pulled his head up off the pillow to meet the glistening gray eyes before him. The angular face was so calm and serene. His cheeks were rosy, his steel eyes were full of searching, of serenity, of calm. He was meant to be there, fitted against his tanned body, perfectly enmeshed. A small smile was curled at the edge of his prim lips. Subtle but not guarded. It was as if all of his troubles had melted completely away. In that moment the sweet, tender loving person under the steely facade shone through. 

They shared a gaze of longing, understanding. They were having a wordless conversation, knowing intimately that they had been waiting years for this moment, to truly feel each other, this close, this uninhibited. Their unabashed love for each other bloomed and grew the last few years on this mission, on this exploration of the universe. They were so many light years away from a physical home, yet found relief and safety in each other. It was their relationship, their friendship, their bond. Something that had become so much more than a shared shift or away mission. Every shared meal, every shared look and brush in the hallway and at tactical and in engineering when they spent so many moments side by side had culminated in this connection. Electricity ran through them. They were a closed circuit, tied into one another, breath and heat and warmth and emotion fluidly running through them. It was circular, cyclical, ever-repeating. In and out with each breath. 

Their faces were so close they could feel each other’s breath on their lips, both of their mouths gently parted. They blinked at each other, lashes long and supple and beautiful. They drank each other in. It wasn’t apparent who moved closer first, though their lips met in a gentle warm kiss. Parting more, one lip on top of the other, Malcolm’s teeth grazed Trip's bottom lip ever so gently, pulling just enough to elicit a soft groan from Trip. A pleased vocalization erupted into the quiet air. Trip’s eyes closed in bliss, in vulnerability. Malcolm’s stayed open for just a second longer, surveying the beautiful expression all over Trip’s flushed face. The blush that crept from his nose to his temples, the upturned smile frame by his own lips was enchanting. Their noses brushed and Malcolm deepened the kiss as he let his eyes close softly. 

He felt Trip’s eyelashes brush against his cheek as the blond turned his head slowly, angling himself so he could nip at the corner of Malcolm’s mouth. He trailed a tongue over his top lip and then pulled away. Malcolm leaned forward to bring their mouths together again and Trip pulled back just far enough that Malcolm couldn’t reach, taunting him lovingly. Malcolm grasped at Trip’s chest and tried to lean in but the Engineer’s strong hands held him still. A small protest escaped the smaller man’s lips and faded into a quiet moan when Trip leaned forward and pressed his lips against his ear, caressing it. Then his tongue roamed so tenderly across the sensitive cartilage and his breath warmed the man’s ear. A heavy sigh pushed air into his ear canal, shooting a hot wave down Malcolm's neck and into his back. Trip squeezed Malcolm's ass and the small of his back at the same time, and Malcolm's hands curled around Trip's shoulders, holding him tight. Pulling him close.

Hot with need, Malcolm pulled his leg out from under Trip's and slid it over his hips, pulling himself completely on top of the man below him. His knees and shins were firm against the bedroll, his crotch superimposed on Trip’s. He could feel the man’s swollen erection rub against his warm, wet aching crotch. His own smaller swollen member rubbed against his boxer briefs, the sensation maddening. He could feel the heat in his groin radiating out from the cluster of nerve endings at the tip of his swollen glans, pushing up against the folds of his crotch, against Trip’s. 

Trip could feel the wetness seeping through Malcolm’s tight underwear, the heat emanating from the man above him. His hands trailed up Malcolm's sides to his chest. His palms rubbed against the man’s pecs and he felt the tiniest hint of raised skin, a long scar underneath his strong hard chest. His rough, sunsweet hand followed the line from the center of Malcolm’s chest to the side of his ribs in one stroke. Trip smiled up at his best friend, then planted kisses all along the bottom of his pecs. Malcolm smiled back and closed his eyes, feeling the haze of lust pass over him, the serenity of sharing these moments with the man he had loved for so long, the electricity of the man’s lips meeting his skin.

Trip’s eyelashes fluttered across his bare chest, tickling. He left a series of kisses in a trail across Malcolm's body, then paused to lick his nipple before making his way back up to the other man’s face. His hot, wet mouth found Malcolm’s ear and groaned softly as he took it in his lips. Malcolm sighed and his mouth hung open, dazed. Trip felt Malcolm's breath catch, then escape his lips on his own ear. He shuddered. He continued to play with Malcolm, dragging his tongue swiftly over the ridges of his ear and then down to the skin just below his lobe. He opened his lips and grazed his teeth against the sensitive skin on Malcolm’s neck, then licked a small circle before biting down. He applied only a slight pressure, just enough to pinch and leave the faintest of red marks that wouldn’t bruise. There was simply a small redness, temporary and sweet. 

An emotive sigh escaped Malcolm's throat. He pressed his hips against Trip’s erection, rubbing himself against the man’s hard cock, feeling the furnace magnify inside his belly. Trip sighed and bit Malcolm's neck again while fanning his fingers out on Malcolm's ass, feeling the thick fur. He thrust in time with Malcolm, groaning and pulling him down slowly, savoring each moment of pressure against his groin. His free hand trailed fingertips down Malcolm's spine, making the man shudder, and then disappeared into Malcolm's underwear. It joined the other hand, cupping and grasping at Malcolm’s taut ass, caressing. Malcolm held himself up, forearms on Trip’s chest, pressing into him, his hands gripping Trip’s shoulders tightly, almost sobbing with desire. 

Trip used his wrists and forearms to pull the back of Malcolm's boxer briefs down below his cheeks, then slid his hands to the side of Malcolm's hips, fingertips brushing his thighs, and hooked his thumbs on the elastic waistband. He pulled his head back and met Malcolm's eyes again, his breathing ragged with desire, his lips open, panting slow and hard. Malcolm leaned forward and bit Trip's lip, his nose grazing trip’s cheek. Trip pulled back and gazed intently at Malcolm’s face, watching his expression change, heated, as Trip pulled his underwear completely down. He felt Malcolm press his hips harder onto Trip’s groin, more wetness rubbing against his own boxers, against his swollen cock. 

Trip leaned forward to pull the underwear further down and Malcolm slid his hands to either side of Trip, his palms on the bedroll to steady himself. He let Trip push his underwear to his knees, then he pulled a leg up. Deft hands untangled them from his body, swiftly down and then off one leg. He raised the other, and Trip finally had them completely removed. The engineer’s rough hands found their way back to Malcolm's ass, rubbing sensually. They moved lower, insistent, exploring the tops of the back of his thighs. His fingers creeped slowly inward, touching and feeling the sensitive flesh between Malcolm's legs. His fingers inched upward, right into the area just below his crotch, the sensual erogenous parts, where his thighs met the inside of his hips. 

Trip brushed his hand over the man’s hairy thighs and sighed heavily. His fingers moved up and grazed Malcolm’s dripping crotch, feeling how wet and warm he was. Trip moaned, deep and low. Malcolm gasped and kissed Trip again, wanton. He thrust against Trip’s hand and He groaned into Trip’s mouth. He brought a hand up to cup Trip’s face longingly. There was a slight roughness of two days stubble. He sighed into his parted lips, feeling heaven open up beneath him, light pour out of him and into the other man. The strong hips underneath him rocked back and forth, rubbing swollen erection against Malcolm's wet pulsing crotch, against his smaller swollen cock. An inferno engulfed his groin, aching with need. 

Trip pulled his hands up to the top of Malcolm's hips and dragged him to his side, and then pushed him under his larger body. The smaller man was below Trip now, his hair ruffled, his cheeks ruddy with yearning. He blinked slowly at Trip, unused to being caught off guard, to his body being manipulated so easily. He was going soft for this man, completely pliable in his grasp. His hands quickly found Trip’s waist, then the elastic of his boxers and pushed them down. They caught on his erect cock, and Malcolm dragged his hands slowly around to the front, letting his fingertips relish the sensation of Trip’s thick trail of blond hair above his waistline. He followed it under the elastic, then grazed the tip of Trip’s trembling cock with his palm, precum spreading into his hand. 

He latched his fingers under the caught elastic and freed Trip’s erection before swiftly pushing the needless fabric to Trip’s knees. Trip mirrored Malcolm's earlier movements, pulling one leg and then another out, finally pushing the boxers away nimbly with a foot. The blond man leaned back onto his knees and grabbed Malcolm's legs, pushing them open and then wrapping them around his waist before leaning forward, letting his cock push against Malcolm's crotch. They both gasped at the touch and Trip felt his torso fall onto Malcolm's. His face was nuzzled into Malcolm's pale neck, his breathing hard. He could feel his erection jump against Malcolm's throbbing, wet crotch. 

The slick warm wetness, his come, was dripping on him. It was so fiery, so welcoming, his deep desire weeping from inside him, coating Trip’s groin. Malcolm’s legs gripped him and pulled him closer. Trip could feel the pressure of Malcolm’s heels digging into his skin, pleading for closeness against his thighs. His knees pushed into the hips between his legs. Trip’s eyes widened as his dick was thrust between the folds of Malcolm's skin. He could feel the blood in the man’s smaller cock pulsing against his member. He could feel Malcolm’s hips lift up to meet the touch, to intensify the sensation. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled almost inaudibly. Malcolm had said nothing, only communicating his vulnerability and need with his eyes. Trip felt Malcolm’s lips brush against his ear and his breath hitched again. He shook as Malcolm's arms wrapped around his back, fingernails digging into his skin. Malcolm dragged them down, intensifying the touch as he pulled. His fingertips found their way to Trip’s ass and danced, eliciting a shake, a moan, more gooseflesh, before settling on the small of his back and pulling him closer. Trip’s hips started to thrust involuntarily. He couldn’t control himself anymore. His breath was heavier, more erratic. He could feel the heat welling up in his stomach, the inevitable release approaching. He tried to stop thrusting, and when he managed, he could feel Malcolm continuing, rubbing himself up and down Trip’s erection, moaning so quietly underneath him.

Trip pulled his hips back and felt Malcolm's arms object, trying to keep him close. He grabbed Malcolm's wrists and shoved them down by his sides, a soft thud against the bedroll. Malcolm’s head flew back in surprise, his chin up and eyes closed, relishing the force, the loss of control. Trip thrust down against Malcolm, feeling the head of his cock go down, down toward Malcolm's opening. He felt the wetness surround him for a moment before he pulled back, panting. He let go of Malcolm's wrists and dropped his hands on either side of the dark haired head. He leaned in close, feeling his dick twitch, caught between his own hips and Malcolm's trembling body. He ran a hand through Malcolm’s hair and gazed deeply into those shining silvery eyes.

Malcolm whispered, “Please,” his mouth slack, speech slurred. “Please, Trip.” 

His hands grasped desperately at Trip’s hips. Trip’s mouth was slightly ajar, his tongue gliding over his lips. He moaned and leaned in, kissed Malcolm hard, his eyes open, watching the angular features of the usually stoic man under him overtaken with longing. 

“Please,” he moaned again into Trip’s mouth pulling emphatically at Trip’s waist. He felt the smaller man’s hips raise. Malcolm gasped, Trip’s cock firm against his dripping hole, then wrapped his hands around Trip’s ass. “Please,” he begged again. 

Trip relented, growling and pushing forward, feeling his cock drive deep inside Malcolm. He was so wet and hot, a geyser. His muscles contracted as Trip thrusted inward, wrapping his erection with his body, decorum abandoned to hunger. 

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, his drawling accent unrestrained. 

“Malcolm,” he whispered into the man’s ear. His head had fallen, their cheeks pressed together. Their breathing was erratic and ragged. Malcolm’s eyes were only half open, lidded, mostly white showing. Trip pulled his head back, trying to focus on Malcolm’s face, on his expression, on the bliss that lay there. Trip moaned softly and pulled his hips back, and then forward, back and then forward, an even, painfully slow rhythm. He dropped a hand to Malcolm's groin, searching for his swollen sensitive head, feeling the hood and pulling it up and down, reaching his fingers down to Malcolm's wetness, using his come as a slick lubricant. Malcolm stifled a yell in his throat, letting only the quietest of moans escape his lips. His head flew back and his eyes widened, gasping. 

“Trip,” he almost sobbed, the feeling of being full, of Trip’s persistent pumping inside him, of his thick, hard cock pushing and pulling and his nimble fingers jacking him off at the same time, pulling the hood of his cock up and down, rubbing on each side of his swollen part, making sure he felt every moment of ecstasy possible, overwhelming him. 

Trip’s eyes fluttered, amazed by the emotion flowing freely on the often neutral face of his best friend. This was the man he had watched so carefully for the last three years, whose expressions he knew so well. He relished watching waves of pleasure crash over his best friend’s features, and he never wanted it to end. It was ecstasy, it was heaven, it was radiant brilliance more than he could ever have imagined. One of Malcolm's hands flew up from Trip’s ass and buried itself in his dirty blond hair, grasping at the back of his head, pulling him close so he could feel the larger man’s lips on his neck, needy. Trip moaned into Malcolm's skin and let his tongue lavish, taste and lap at the sweat. His hips ground harder into Malcolm and the man’s breath choked in his throat. 

Trip started pumping harder inside him, fraught with desire. His rhythmic pull on Malcolm's swollen glans increased in time with the thrusting of his hips. He passed a thumb over the head of Malcolm's throbbing cock and Malcolm bit his lip, trying to stay quiet but whimpering. He could feel everything magnified, the throbbing and pulsing paralyzing him. Trip’s cock was thick and hard, bearing down inside of him. He had found the spot buried within, where every time he pushed himself deep, forcefully down in Malcolm’s warm wet body, he gasped, where the heat exploded and radiated. He thrusted again and again, Malcolm’s body quaking beneath him every time. 

“Please, oh god,” his voice came out slurred and raspy. Trip grunted, and choked out a moan, guttural. Close. So close. He could feel the heat welling in his balls and spreading into his cock and out into his thighs. Malcolm’s legs clutched him close, rigid. His stomach was full of searing heat and he could feel it radiating down his ass and legs and feet. He grabbed at Trip, pulling him as close as he could, down as hard as he could into his body. 

“Please, Trip,” he panted. 

“Fuck, Malcolm.” Trip moaned.

“Trip I’m gonna come.” The words tumbled out of his mouth in a blur. 

“Fuck,” Trip gasped. “Come,” he commanded. “Now.” Trip thrusted again harder and faster, his hips shaking. He felt Malcolm’s strong legs wrap even more intensely around his waist, pulling and then holding Trip against him, his cock deep inside, as Malcolm’s whole body quaked beneath him. He howled into Trip’s shoulder, muffling the sound, heaving with emotion as pleasure proliferated through his whole body. Trip felt when Malcolm came, his muscles squeezing taut around his cock, his fingers wrapped in his hair forcefully. A gasp and then a deep moan was unleashed from Malcolm’s throat as Trip kept pumping. Then, with an arc of electricity surging through his body he grabbed Malcolm’s hair and groaned into the man’s neck, his body trembling against the man below him. He felt a tingling wave of static rush through his body, then out of his cock into Malcolm's wetness. He felt him fill up, felt his come surround his cock and then seep out of Malcolm, joining Malcolm’s come, dripping down his ass and onto Trip’s groin. 

Breathless, he fell against Malcolm's chest and kissed him on his mouth, needing to taste him. Malcolm returned the kiss and then relaxed completely beneath Trip, exhausted. Trip kissed the skin on his neck over and over again. Malcolm moaned and let his legs slowly unfurl from Trip’s waist and drop to his sides. Trip pulled himself out of the man below him and rested his body against the slighter man. He whimpered and lay his cheek against his chest. Fine dark hairs lined his pecs. He pulled a hand up, trailing patterns across Malcolm's pecs. The man shuddered, more gooseflesh raised on his skin. 

They were quiet, their breathing slowly regulating, returning to a normal pace, calming. Trip finally slid to Malcolm’s side and pulled a sleeping bag over their sweaty trembling forms. He draped a muscled arm over Malcolm’s chest, elbow bent and forearm cradling his face. He buried his fingers in Malcolm’s dark sweaty hair, anchoring himself. 

“I love you, Malcolm Reed,” Trip whispered into his best friend’s ear, his stomach churning, his vision blurry with tears, his heart racing. He could see a huge grin break out on Malcolm's face. He let out a contented sigh and tenderly brushed his lips against Trip’s forehead.   
  
“And I love you, Charles Tucker the Third.” Malcolm returned.

They both laughed giddily and kissed before drifting into a lull of half sleep, reveling in the honesty, in the finality and the totality of all they had been feeling for what felt like forever. They’d never even spoken about their feelings before, about their desires, but it felt like they had finally come home to each other. They just knew, it had been time. 

**Author's Note:**

> my first public smut! hope ya like it!!!


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